No Matter What // Harry Styles AU -- Dunkirk inspired

Chapter Forty-Two

Harry's P.O.V

You'd think I'd be used to it, this feeling of inadequacy. Being the son of the town drunk has a way of teaching you a thing or two about that. I mean hell, after all these years, Gem and I ought to be proper experts on not letting people bother us. And while maybe actually Gem is, as I walk down the path and away from the Williams' place, I'm filled with the same shame and embarrassment that I'd felt as a little kid.

I round the front gate and press into the storm with my head hung low. The image of Mrs. William's polite disgust stings almost as bad as the biting wind. The old line Gemma used to whisper in my ear as we passed whispers and stares echoes from the back of mind.

Every step forward is a step away from them.

My legs falter. 

The rain continues to noisily pound against the earth, and I know I should get home soon; I'm certain the temperature will drop to freezing as night comes. Only problem is that my damn legs just won't seem to work.

Gem's words replay over and over in my head, but they don't bring any comfort. 'Cause the thing is- I'm actually fine walking away from Mrs. Williams. Hell, it'd be tough, but I'd even be fine walking away from my job at the factory. But the thought of walking away from Hazel? 

Well I'm paralyzed, utterly paralyzed. 

I bend down, my elbows resting on my knees. My eyes screw shut as I pinch the bridge of my nose, desperate to relieve the tension behind my eyes, when the image of Hazel at that first dance comes to life in my mind.

Bloody hell, she was an absolute stunner. Nearly every bloke in the place said so. But when she danced with me, when she looked me in the eyes and smiled, I was gobsmacked.

No one's ever looked at me that way. Like I was somebody important. Like I mattered. All my life, I was something to snicker at or if I was lucky, something to pity. But with Hazel? When she looks at me, I swear it's as if she sees the real me. I'm not some trouble maker or some sob story to pity, I'm just me. Just Harry.

And heaven knows why, but she looks at me and she smiles-  she bloody smiles! As if that's good enough for her or something. In fact, when I look back on it, every damn near time we're together, she's smiling at me. Whether it's her beautiful mouth curved like the arch of the moon, or with her eyes, glittering like the stars, she looks at me with such an incredible smile- one that's shaped by wonder and delight, hell, admiration even. That smile looking up at me- I feel like king beside her, somehow. I desperately don't want to walk away from her.

I can't walk away from her, I realize. Not now, not ever.

I open my eyes, and in a passing moment of hopefulness, I turn my face up to stare at the house. Proud and still, it almost seems to add to my mockery with its grand nature. I roll my eyes at my own naivety, when a single light from the side of the house catches my eye. I rise slowly, my eyes never leaving the light. Suddenly, it hits me like a bloody lighthouse to my heart. 

I know exactly which bedroom it belongs to.

Mrs. William's words overpower Gem's voice in my head: She's unavailable at the moment.

Those words, those simple words that had seemed so vicious just a few minutes ago, suddenly fuel me with desperate hope. Mrs. Williams must have meant that Hazel was still home, but not yet ready to leave.

I hate myself for giving up so quickly, but there isn't time to lash out against my blasted insecurities. My eyes quickly scan over the yard as my heart pounds. Heaven almighty, she hasn't left yet. I have to stop her.